


sharing is caring

by Potrix



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, Post-Endgame, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Silly, Timeline What Timeline, implied threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22086250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: “So,” Tony hums, wrapping both his arms around Bucky’s waist now, eyebrows raised high. “Do I want to know?”Closing his eyes, Bucky presses their foreheads together. “Probably not.”Or, alternatively: Wolverine has a knack for finding horny boys in search of a good time. And he's nothing if not selfless.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Logan (X-Men), James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Logan (X-Men)/Tony Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 389





	sharing is caring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InnerCinema](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerCinema/gifts).



> This is 100% [InnerCinema](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innercinema)'s fault. I suspect she's 100% regretting ever coming up with the idea of Bucky finally coming to terms with being gay because he was getting it on with Wolverine while they were both in the Howlies right now. Sorry, not sorry. 
> 
> Timelines? Universes? Endgame? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**December 31st, 2019**

"I taught him that, you know."

The gruff voice startles Bucky into choking around the cock in his mouth, tears springing to his eyes as he pulls back, coughing and wincing. 

The fingers Tony has curled into his hair move to scratch at the back of his neck, gentle and soothing, even as he demands, “What the hell, Logan?” 

Bucky agrees wholeheartedly, even though, “Logan?” 

Howlett grins around the cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth, shrugging. “It’s a long story.” He quirks an eyebrow at Bucky, looking him up and down, gaze lingering on the metal arm for a moment. “Though, I suppose, you got one of those yourself, huh?” 

“How the fuck are you still alive?” Bucky demands, instead of answering. Barring a few barely noticeable wrinkles around his eyes, Howlett looks almost eerily like he could’ve just stepped out of a trench somewhere in 1940’s Italy. Well, less muddy and better dressed, but still. 

“Could ask you the same thing, bub,” Howlett shoots back from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air. 

It’s the same brand from way back when. It still makes Bucky’s nose twitch. Howlett catches the slight movement, grin widening, but before he can say anything else, Tony pointedly clears his throat. 

“Catching up is great and all, but,” he gestures vaguely at his still exposed dick, then at Bucky still on his knees on the floor.

“Sorry.” Bucky straightens up, ignoring Howlett’s chuckle, and brushes a quick kiss across Tony’s lips. “Here,” he murmurs, tugging Tony’s dress shirt out of the way so Tony can do up his pants. 

“Don’t stop on my account, boys,” Howlett says, voice low, and only laughs when Bucky turns to glare at him. 

One of Tony’s hands lands on Bucky’s waist, squeezing softly. “Charming as ever, I see,” he says to Howlett, who shrugs again, unbothered. “Was there anything you needed, or did you just creep in here to play peeping Tom?” 

“It’s only a couple minutes ‘till midnight, Cap’s looking for you downstairs.” Howlett licks his lips, eyeing Tony’s crotch in a way that makes Bucky want to step in front of him. But then Howlett looks up, shrugs again, mouth turning up into a dirty little smirk. “Wasn’t going to say no to a free show, though.” 

He’s smart enough to leave, finally, when Bucky growls at him. Even if he’s chuckling again while doing so.

“So,” Tony hums, wrapping both his arms around Bucky’s waist now, eyebrows raised high. “Do I want to know?” 

Closing his eyes, Bucky presses their foreheads together. “Probably not.”

**July 4th, 1942**

“Fuck, I’m—sorry, shit. I’m sorry!”

Bucky can feels himself blush as he’s staring up at the slivers of dark grey sky visible between the trees, cheeks hot and stomach tight. He hadn’t expected anyone to be out here, this far away from the celebration going on at camp, had wandered off for a moment or two of peace and quiet. 

To, maybe, do what he’s just caught Howlett doing, without half a dozen guys sleeping within arm’s reach for once. 

“‘S all right,” Howlett says, voice breathy like—like he’s still—

Unable to help himself, Bucky chances a look back down and yes, there Howlett is, leaning back against a mossy log, one leg bent to the side, still casually, lazily stroking his dick. Spluttering, Bucky, quickly glances down at the ground. “Why would you—”

“Hey,” Howlett hums, then groans quietly before going on, “I was here first, kid. If it bothers you, you know the way back.”

“If it bothers me,” Bucky repeats dumbly and, damn it, now he’s looking again, watching the pink head of Howlett’s cock appear and disappear as Howlett jerks himself. Absently, unconsciously, Bucky licks at his lower lip, then immediately flushes even hotter when Howlett breathes out a low, throaty laugh. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says, one corner of his mouth curled up teasingly. “Always careful not to look. In the showers, when we’re changing. Too careful, sometimes.”

Bucky’s heart stutters, feels like it’s up somewhere in his throat, but before he can start denying, making up excuses, Howlett holds out his free hand, crooking a finger at Bucky. “C’mere, kid.”

“Not a kid,” Bucky mumbles, embarrassment still churning in his gut even as tentative excitement is trying to make a space for itself there as well. 

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he slowly steps closer. 

He huffs, surprised, when Howlett grabs his wrist as soon as he’s within reach, tugging him down into Howlett’s lap. Howlett’s hands find their way to Bucky’s hips, moving him, and Bucky can’t stop himself from gasping when their cocks brush together, even if it’s through the thick fabric of Bucky’s pants. 

“You ever done this before?” Howlett asks as Bucky settles his hands on his shoulders, one of Howlett’s hands moving to the small of Bucky’s back. “With a girl?” When Bucky shakes his head, Howlett grins, knowing and interested. “With another guy, huh?”

“Just, uh.” Bucky licks his lips again, feeling—almost pleased, this time, when Howlett follows the movement with heavy lidded eyes. “Kissin’ and. Some touchin’?”

“We can do kissing and some touching,” Howlett chuckles, and fuck, Bucky’s face must be flaming by now. It doesn’t seem to deter Howlett, though, who’s using the hand on Bucky’s back to push him even closer. “Don’t worry, kid, I know how to take care of you.” 

The kiss, when it comes, is gentler than Bucky would’ve expected. It makes him melt against Howlett’s chest, closing the final distance between them, and Howlett hums approvingly, hands busy rucking up Bucky’s shirt. Unsure what to do with his own hands, Bucky lets them hover over Howlett’s chest for a moment before pressing them to his stomach, the tips of his fingers brushing coarse, dark hair. 

“Go on,” Howlett encourages.

Bucky swallows, hard, and decides to throw the last of his caution out the window. Howlett moans, deep and low, when Bucky wraps a shaky hand around his dick, stroking up and then down just once. 

“Like that, yeah,” Howlett breathes, “keep going.” 

Bucky does, pitching forward for another kiss as Howlett fumbles to undo Bucky’s pants. They both groan once Bucky’s cock springs free, hard and leaking already. 

“Look at you, gorgeous,” Howlett says and Bucky whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut when Howlett wraps one hand around the both of them, setting up a steady rhythm. 

It’s all a blur, from there; Bucky panting and whining into Howlett’s mouth, fingers gripping at Howlett’s hair, hips hitching impatiently, Howlett’s free hand sneaking down the back of Bucky’s pants, one finger pushing against—

Bucky comes with a sharp cry, whole body going rigid before, like all his strings have been cut, he slumps against Howlett’s heaving chest, burying his face in Howlett’s sweaty neck. He can feel Howlett’s hand keep moving between them, his own dick sensitive and twitching, and then Howlett’s spilling over both their cocks and bellies with a long, drawn-out moan. 

It takes a while before Bucky feels steady enough to sit back. Howlett is already looking up at him, rumpled and fucked out. Quickly, before he loses his nerve, Bucky darts in for another kiss and a whispered, “Thanks.” 

Howlett only grins, then grimaces when he lifts up his messy hand. Bucky honestly, genuinely has no idea what his face must be doing, but one of Howlett’s eyebrows raises slowly, his grin turning sharper. Without a word, he holds two finger up to Bucky’s lips, waiting. 

“Damn, kid,” he half laughs, half groans when Bucky sucks them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them. “Trying to give me ideas for next time?”

**December 31st, 2019**

“Don’t judge me,” Bucky whines, nipping sharply at Tony’s ear. He can feel more than hear Tony’s laugh where they’re pressed together, chest to chest. 

Tony strokes a hand up and down his spine. “I would never,” he lies, smiling against Bucky’s cheek. Then, like the absolute asshole he can be sometimes, he asks, “And? Was there a next time?”

Bucky bites him again. “Not a lotta men into dick runnin’ around the battlefield, you know. Not a lotta options. Hey—stop laughin’ at me, you—”

“No, no.” Tony pulls back a little, a funny look in his eyes as he shakes his head. “It’s not that. Trust me, it’s really not.” 

**December 25th, 1988**

“You old enough to drink that, bub?”

Tony scowls at the guy stepping out of the balcony door, takes a defiant sip of his martini, and pointedly turns his back again, staring out into the night. The guy—Logan something, Tony thinks, one of Fury’s pet soldiers, kind of hot in an angry sort of way—chooses to ignore the hint, moving to stand next to Tony. 

Close enough that their shoulders brush. Tony glances over at him, startled to find Logan already watching him back. “What?” 

“Not really one for pretentious shindigs like these.” Logan shrugs and takes a swig of his beer. “Got my fill of rich assholes with inflated egos for tonight.”

“At least the richest, dickiest one isn’t your dad,” Tony mutters bitterly, taking another long drink. “I don’t even know why he makes me come to these things, it’s not like he actually wants me here. He just wants to show me off, parade me around before he forgets about me again for the next couple of months.” 

Logan snorts. All he says is, “Family.” 

“Yeah,” Tony agrees, looking back over at him. 

His eyes get stuck on the bob of Logan’s Adam’s apple for a moment when Logan takes another drink, then snap up to Logan’s face when Logan makes an intrigued sound in the back of his throat. 

“How many of these have you had?” he asks, tapping a finger against Tony’s glass. 

“Like, two, maybe? Why, what—oh,” Tony cuts himself off when Logan crowds him back against the wall, hands coming up to cup Tony’s neck. 

Logan’s close enough their noses are brushing, voice playful as he repeats, “Yeah, oh.”

It makes Tony laugh, giddy. “Do you think,” he asks, hooking a finger into one of Logan’s belt loops, “that Fury would approve of you seducing one of his biggest benefactor’s son?”

“You think your daddy would be happy to find out about you spreading your pretty legs for a mutant he indirectly pays to get rid of things that go bump in the night?” Logan demands right back, and brings his hips forward, the hard line of his dick brushing against Tony’s leg. 

“That’s what I’m going to do, is it?” Tony asks, hands dropping to grope at Logan’s ass and hold him close. 

The eyebrow Logan raises at him is challenging. Tony grins and pushes him back firmly. “My room’s across the hall.”

They’re on each other the moment Tony’s kicked his bedroom door closed behind them, Logan’s mouth hot and greedy against Tony’s as they stumble towards the bed. Tony lets himself fall when the backs of his knees hit the frame, breath whooshing out of him when Logan lands on top of him a second later. 

“Off, c’mon,” Logan growls, tugging at the knot of Tony’s tie. “Get naked.”

“Bossy,” Tony tisks even as he starts undoing his shirt and toeing off his shoes. 

Logan sits back enough to strip off his own jacket and shirt, then seems to get impatient and goes to work on Tony’s pants. Tony’s giggling by the time his pants and underwear hit the floor, but it turns into a gasp when Logan flips him deftly, straddling his thighs. 

“Where—”

“Bedside table, top drawer.”

The first drop of lube hits the small of Tony’s back, cold enough to make him hiss. “Rude.”

“You’ll live, pretty boy,” Logan says, scooping the lube back up with his fingers before rubbing the tip of one over Tony’s hole. 

Tony’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth drops open in a soft moan when Logan works his finger in, slow but steady. He’s methodical, making quick work of stretching Tony first with one, then two, and finally three thick fingers, his other hand on Tony’s hip, keeping him from getting any friction on his aching cock. 

He doesn’t make Tony wait long, though, pulling his fingers out as soon as Tony breathes, “I’m ready, come on, I’m ready.” 

“Up, on your knees,” Logan orders, his hand now pushing between Tony’s shoulders, making Tony arch his back, ass up high. “Yeah, look at that. So pretty.” 

There’s the rustle of a condom wrapper, and then Tony can feel the head of Logan’s cock against his hole, pushing against the last of the resistance Tony’s body has to offer. Frustrated, Tony reaches back with one hand, spreading himself some more until, finally, his body gives and Logan moves inside in one long, dragging slide. 

“Fuck,” Tony chockes, hands curling into the sheets, and can’t help but laugh breathily when Logan rumbles, “Gladly.” 

With that, Logan grabs the bunched up material of the shirt Tony’s still half wearing, anchors his other hand on Tony’s hip, and does just that. 

The pace is brutal enough to send Tony sliding up the bed, punching little moaned _oh_ s out of him with every thrust of Logan’s hips. He has to brace his hands against the headboard, but then he’s able to push back, preening at the way it makes Logan moan, deep and guttural. 

“Pretty thing,” Logan breathes as he leans forward to set his teeth against Tony’s shoulder, biting down hard enough to make it hurt in the good way.

It changes the angle enough to make Logan’s cock hit Tony’s prostate on every other stroke, and Tony knows he won’t last much longer. “Logan—”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Logan says, increasing his tempo, tone just this side of mean when he adds, “but don’t touch yourself.”

And that’s what does it. Tony cries out, loudly, hands fruitlessly scrabbling for purchase as he comes, Logan fucking him through it until Tony’s ragged breaths turn into oversensitive hiccups. 

“Ssh, it’s okay,” Logan soothes, pressing his lips against the back of Tony’s neck before he pulls back and out. Tony flops down onto his stomach, making Logan chuckle. “Just stay there lookin’ pretty.” 

“Can do,” Tony slurs, and gives a sloppy salute. 

He turns his head to the side so he can watch as Logan pulls off the condom, working his cock until it twitches in his hand, spurting hotly across Tony’s ass and back. Logan slumps forward, bracing himself on one hand, fingers of the other one vanishing from sight to rub at Tony’s swollen rim. 

It makes Tony twitch and hiss. Logan chuckles again but pulls his hand back, lowering himself to lie down next to Tony. 

“That was,” Tony hums, then yawns loudly, “definitely better than watching my dad and Obie be smarmy for another few hours.” 

Logan pats him on the head, ruffling his hair. “Always happy to be of service.” 

**December 31st, 2019**

“He was gone when I woke up, but, yes, before you ask,” Tony sighs, “it happened again. A few times. Howard’s parties really always were boring.”

Bucky is silent for a long moment. Then, “So, what you’re sayin’ is. You had a—a thing with Howlett. Logan. A fucking-to-spite-your-father thing.” 

“And you,” Tony says, mouth twitching, “had a secret thing with Logan while running around war time Europe with Captain America.” 

Bucky isn’t sure who starts it, but soon enough they’re clutching at each other, shaking with laughter. “Holy shit.” 

“Indeed,” Tony snorts, then pushes his face against Bucky’s chest, giggling loudly. “This is—”

“It really is,” Bucky agrees, rocking them both gently, trying to get his breathing back under control. “Holy shit, Tony.”

Wiping at his eyes, Tony pulls back, cupping Bucky’s cheek. “I love you.” 

Bucky turns his face enough to kiss his palm. “Love you.” 

They manage to slip back into the party, unseen, just as the countdown to midnight starts. 

**January 1st, 2020**

“So,” Logan drawls, and Bucky groans, glaring at him over to top of Tony’s head while Tony snorts into Bucky’s chest. “Threesome on the table, here, or what?”

Behind them, the elevator dings its arrival. 

Bucky looks down at Tony. Tony looks back up at him. 

Next to them, Logan starts chuckling.

**Author's Note:**

> Did they? Did they not? You decide! 
> 
> Go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works), or come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com).


End file.
